


Been a Prisoner of My Scars

by babblingEccentric



Series: Emissary of the Void [1]
Category: Original Work, overwatch
Genre: Advice, Aftermath of Violence, Body Image, Character Study, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enthusiastic Consent, Healing, I did more research than I really needed to for this, Implied Hypersexuality, Mental Illness, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Other, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Short Description of Graphic Violence, Tibet, Trans Character, Trauma, Two Characters Meet in a Bar, anorgasmia, emotional whiplash, secondary type anorgasmia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 18:49:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13196343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babblingEccentric/pseuds/babblingEccentric
Summary: While Zenyatta was a wonderful being and Genji may even say he was glad he met him, sometimes he seemed so unreachably perfect, so unable to truly comprehend what it was like to live as fucked up as Genji was. And on the bad days, days where Genji woke up feeling like his missing skin was too tight and that getting better was too hard to do every day, On the days when Genji stopped feeling like a person and just felt like pain, Zenyatta’s endless sympathy and compassion felt like cloying pity.So, when these days happened, Genji removes himself.(In which Genji attempts to get sad drunk, vents to a stranger, gets some strangely worded advice, and proceeds to bang that stranger)





	Been a Prisoner of My Scars

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of notes.  
> This is set a couple months after Genji started studying with Zenyatta. He doesn't quite know how he feels about him yet.  
> There is a brief but graphic description of Genji's attempted murder about halfway through. It's one paragraph so you can skip it. Take care of yourself.  
> Keshet is my character, they are a non-binary dimension hopper from my massive multi-crossover original work. All you need to know about them is that they have dealt with a lot of their own trauma and healing, are mentally ill, and genuinely care about people.  
> I left it so you can read Genji as trans or cis because I wasn't sure which one I wanted for this universe.  
> Also I decided to make Tibet independent because they've been fighting for years to be independent from Chinese occupation and because I could.

Genji is tucked in the most out of the way corner of the bar, his back to the wall and his face hopefully obscured in shadow so no-one would notice that it was human. The bar is tiny and at the base of a mountain in middle of nowhere, Tibet. Zenyatta is charging thanks to the kindness of a small family with a generator a few miles away.

While Zenyatta was a wonderful being and Genji may even say he was glad he met him, sometimes he seemed so unreachably perfect, so unable to truly comprehend what it was like to live as fucked up as Genji was. And on the bad days, days where Genji woke up feeling like his missing skin was too tight and that getting better was too hard to do every day, On the days when Genji stopped feeling like a person and just felt like pain, Zenyatta’s endless sympathy and compassion felt like cloying pity.

So, when these days happened, Genji removes himself. He leaves Zenyatta behind at the earliest opportunity to walk, to let his feet take him where he needs to be. He walks through warehouse districts and ends up at playgrounds. He walks through rows of houses and ends up in wooded parks. He walks through barren fields and ends up at this shitty bar nursing a marginally less shitty glass of something the locals called _raksi._

He’s staring into the glass wondering why Overwatch let a weapon keep the ability to get drunk when the door squeals open and a small androgynous figure steps in to escape the bitter November chill. They do not look like a local, wearing an Incan style knit hat, a scarf wrapped around their face, and a studded leather jacket decorated with pins and patches. Genji watches them with mild interest. They unwrap the scarf around their face, and they are definitely not a local, because they have the round eyes and pale skin of a westerner. What are they doing way out here? The only nonlocals here are him and Zenyatta, and they are only here because of the monastery.

They order a glass of warm _chaang_ in very stilted Tibetan, and linger with their back to the bar, scanning the room. It’s neither deserted nor packed, and locals are gathered in tight clumps, drinking and chuckling. They thankfully have left Genji alone after he glared at the first one. He doesn’t have enough energy to care about not scaring them.

But that is now his doom because the only table not filled with locals is Genji’s and this Gaijin has realized it at the same time he has. They make their way over to his table and he hopes to god they aren’t the talkative type.

They blessedly are not, settling in across from him and paying more attention to their phone than him. He downs the last of the _raksi_ and gets up to get another from the bartender. He comes back, and the stranger peers carefully at his face. He scowls, hoping to scare them into leaving him alone. They raise an unimpressed eyebrow at him before squinting at his chest. He sits back down, and the stranger is silent, tapping at their phone again. It looks ancient by tech standards, it doesn’t even have a holoscreen, just a simple touch screen.

Suddenly the stranger puts their phone away, looks him right in the eye and says in faintly accented Japanese, “You look like someone drinking their troubles away.”

Genji is flummoxed. Who is this person? What is a Japanese speaking westerner doing in the wilds of Tibet?

“You do speak Japanese, right? Those kanji aren’t just for decoration, and I haven’t made a fool of myself?” They say, still in Japanese

“Yes.” He replies in Japanese. “Who are you? What are you doing out here speaking Japanese but not Tibetan?”

The stranger barks out a surprised laugh, “Is it that obvious? Is my accent that bad? I’m Keshet, and I’m just a traveler. How about you? What’s a Japanese person doing out in in east _bumblefuck_ Tibet? And are you drinking your troubles away?”

“ _Bumblefuck_.” That’s English. He remembers McCree using it on occasion. Is that their native tongue?

“You could say that,” he replies. He is still not very interested in conversation, and hopes Keshet will leave him alone to drunk and mope.

They let him brood for a minute, peering over the rim of their glass before saying “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Are they worth that?” He hopes that turning up the obvious self-hatred will make them uncomfortable enough to leave him be.

“Dunno. Tell me and I’ll judge.”

It doesn’t work. Fuck it. If they really want to know, he’ll tell them. Maybe then they will finally leave him alone.

Three glasses of _raksi_ later, Genji is pleasantly tipsy, and Keshet has pulled a water bottle from their dingy backpack and probably his whole life story from his lips. They have shifted to the same bench and sit next each other so that the locals could take Keshet’s bench for their tables, which have gotten more raucous as the night wore on. It was easier to tell the small punk the worst parts when he didn’t have to look at their face.

“And now I am not even a human being anymore!”

Keshet looks up at his face and sighs, “Look, I’m gonna say this in English because I don’t know how to make it make sense in Japanese and have you understand me. _Being a human is not that important. What matters is are you a **person**?_ ”

He glares at them from the corner of his eye, “How can you say it is not important to be **human?”**

“Fuck it, I’m gonna just use English for the rest of this. _Look, take omnics. Plenty of them are just as much people as I am! They feel and they hurt and they think and they die! And look, I’ve been around long enough and seen enough shit that humans aren’t that great! We murder and loot and rape and justify it in the name of our gods or our nations or because “they deserved it” and we still think we are good. But being a person just means you think and you feel, and you communicate it. I may not have the typical human experience anymore, but goddamn if I’m ever gonna let people take my personhood from me ever again.”_

“Again?” Genji catches their strange phrasing.

Keshet inhales sharply. “ _Fuck.”_

Genji looks them in the eye. “I told you how my own brother sliced me to ribbons at the behest of clan elders. If you do not trust me with your secrets after that, then I do not know what will make you.”

They inhale shakily. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just...” They take a deep, shuddering breath, “What happened to me… is hard for people to understand. And it leads to questions I can’t answer truthfully without a lot of complications.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Once again, my own brother sliced me to ribbons for the clan, and I was revived as a machine.”

“Alright. It’s easier if I show you.” They lift their shirt and their torso is covered in scars. Two curved lines underneath their pectorals, which Genji recognizes as top surgery scars, a smattering of small rough red blobs covering their abdomen, “ _Probably a shotgun blast_ ,” says the part of him that was hammered into a weapon from childhood and reforged in blackwatch, he ignores it. And dominating their torso, silvery and neat, is a huge “Y” shaped scar. It stretches from their shoulder joints, under their pectorals and down into their waistband. “ _Open heart surgery? No, too big. An autopsy?”_ Not for the first time he wishes he could stop thinking.

Keshet looks him straight in the eye and says “I was vivisected. Without anesthesia for most of it.”

Genji wants to throw up, thinks he can feel bile rising in his synthetic throat. He remembers the pain of being sliced tit to hip and nearly fainting from it before his body dumped buckets of adrenaline into his bloodstream and he could get out and his mother calls the number he hands her as he lies dying in her arms. He imagines hours of that, and hates himself, for telling this near stranger about his pain with sick joy as if they could not possibly comprehend it. He still wants to puke but he swallows it down and looks Keshet in the eye and says, with every ounce of his soul behind it, “I am sorry.’

They drop their shirt and cover his fist with their hand, “ _You are not to blame.”_

The two of them sit for a minute, silent as the sounds of a party surround them. Genji turns his hand so that he holds theirs in his. It is warm and solid, comforting. He is oddly comfortable around this person, perhaps it’s the liquor talking, or maybe his own longing for human company, but he would not mind them taking him home. He takes a deep breath and says something he has never told another living soul.

“You know, I used to be a playboy. But when I became… this, I could no longer imagine myself sleeping with someone else ever again. And for a long while I did not want to. I did not want to expose this wreck of a body to myself, let alone anyone else. And, um. That attitude spread. I did not touch myself for a long while afterwards. Years, actually.” Genji swirls his finger in the puddle of condensation on the table and his mouth twists into a wry smirk at his next words. “I had not gone that long without orgasming since I had my first one. So, years of chastity, and self-hatred, passed. And when some months ago I decided to try again, to masturbate for the first time in years, I found that I could not.”

“You couldn’t masturbate?” Keshet asks, “You couldn’t touch yourself?”

“No, I could. I could not, ah, orgasm.”

“Oh. But you could before, right?”

“Yes, definitely.”

“Did you try- “

“Yes! I tried everything short of actually having sex with another person.” Genji interrupts, frustrated. “Toys, fantasies, porn, everything! It is so damn annoying! Why can I not cum? Is it some sort of mental block? Am I broken?! How can I ever have sex again if I can no longer cum? How will someone ever want to have sex with this broken body of mine if it cannot even do that right!”

Keshet sighs and squeezes his hand, carding their other hand through their hair. “First of all, you are not broken. It just sounds like you’ve got anorgasmia brought on by trauma which is something that can probably be fixed, and ain’t unheard of. Second, sex ain’t just about physically nutting. Sometimes it’s more about the emotional and spiritual nut.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Genji asks, startled and baffled out of his spiral of frustration.

Keshet blows a curl out of their face, frustrated with the effort of having to find the right words. “Look, sex isn’t just about cumming. Else we wouldn’t bother and would just fuck our own hands. Sometimes it’s about feeling wanted. Or the intimacy of making another person cum. Sometimes it ain’t all that, sometimes you suck someone’s dick so you have a place to stay the night, or so the landlord “forgets” your rent is due until next week. What do _you_ want from sex?”

Genji exhales and swirls his drink. “You and Master Zenyatta are of a similar mold, full of hard questions and harder truths.”

“This Master Zenyatta of yours sounds like a wise person, from all your talk of him.”

“Oh, definitely. But sometimes too wise for my earthly troubles.”

“Hah! Not too knowledgeable of the desires of the flesh?” Keshet fiddles with their water bottle.

“Considering I have more flesh than him or his brethren, you could say that.” Genji quips, making them laugh.

“So, he’s an omnic? And don’t you think I didn’t notice your little deflection. You don’t have to tell me your answer, but you should answer it. For yourself.” Keshet sips their water, letting the silence sit comfortably between them.

“Tenacious, too.” Genji murmurs, turning the question over in his mind like an interesting trinket.

 “I suppose… I want to feel desirable again. I used to place a good amount of my value on how people wanted to fuck me. And perhaps I long for human contact again.” He offers after minutes of companionable silence.

“Ahh. I understand the loss of the base of your value. When I was a kid I based my identity on the idea that I was smarter than everyone else, and therefore better. When I was diagnosed with a learning disability, and I stopped being the smartest child I had ever met, and my depression made my grades drop, that self-image crumbled because in my mind I wasn’t smart if I wasn’t the smartest, or if I needed extra help, or if I had low grades. So, I had a crisis of identity and self-hatred. And when that was over I rebuilt my identity, based on my actions and the kind of person I wanted to be. I had the ability to completely reform myself, which was a blessing in disguise. It was hard and painful, don’t get me wrong. But, it made me a better person. Now I like to think of myself as a kind and brave person over a smart one. What kind of person do you want to be if you can’t be a fuckable one?”

Genji sighs, “I don’t know? An honorable one? A good one? An alive one? I don’t know!”

“You don’t have to know, you can figure it out. And for what it’s worth, I you are fuckable. You’ve got a nice face. Wouldn’t mind drawing it. Or sitting on it, if you’re down.”

 “You are joking.” He looks at them with pinched brows.

“Nope” they say, popping the p. “And if you just want a hug that’s fine too.”

Genji is irritated, perceiving their words a lie. “This” he gestures at himself, indicating his prosthetics and scars. “turns you on?”

“Well I wouldn’t say the whole “robotic body” thing is a turn on, I’m not an omnic fetishist, they’re kinda gross. The fetishists, not the omnics. But it definitely isn’t a turn off. And if I turned down everyone with bad scarring I’d be out a partner and also a hypocrite.”

Genji examines their guileless expression, before deciding to slam dunk his inhibitions straight into the garbage for this one time at least. “You know what? Fuck it. If this is some joke then you can go choke, but I want you to come all over my face.”

The grin that spreads over Keshet’s face is a sight to behold. They grab his hand and tow him out the door, before they spin around. “Hold on, let me take a picture of you to send to my partners in case I turn up dead in a ditch tomorrow.”

Genji nearly chokes at the bluntness. He recovers enough to throw up a peace sign for their phone camera and smile so he doesn’t look too bad. He remembers some of his one-night stands doing this. Then a thought hits him, “Wait, partners? Like romantic partners? I’m not going to have to flee town from jilted lovers tomorrow, am I?”

“Yes romantic, and they’re fine with me sleeping with you. So, unless you fuck someone else you should be fine. I can show you the texts if it’ll make you feel better. Also in case you didn’t know I’m trans, so like my bits might not match what you expect. Also, I don’t actually know where I am going or where to find somewhere we can fuck sooooo...”

“Good, I don’t plan to, I believe you, I figured and don’t really care what you are packing, and I think I remember somewhere.” Genji leads them by the hand to an abandoned concrete building, left over from Chinese occupation of Tibet and the government subsidies for new housing. The door opens with a well-placed kick and the inside of the house is in disarray. He finds a sturdy looking cabinet on the second floor and hefts Keshet up onto it before sinking onto his knees before them.

“ _Fuck please let me have a dental dam,”_ They mutter and dig through the pockets in their jacket lining. After a moment they emerge victorious with a small packet with pictures of bubblegum. “ _Hell yeah!”_

“Oh, come on! I wanted to feel you soak my face!” Genji whines.

Keshet snickers, “Sorry buddy, but I haven’t been tested in a while, and I don’t know about you. I really don’t feel like courting an STI. One scare was plenty for my heart.”

Genji pouts, disappointed but unable to argue. He’s sunk back into his old playboy persona, and it doesn’t fit anymore, but it’s still fun to wear for a bit. He busies himself with peeling off Keshet’s thick leggings, before hitting their boots.

They reach down and with some effort yank the leggings off without removing their boots. Genji nestles himself between their spread legs, pressing kisses to the edge of their boxer briefs. There is a series of circular burn scars of various sizes dotting their right thigh. He peers up at them, inviting them to tell him.

“ _White phosphorus burn scars, don’t remember much of how I got them. Probably dissociated during most of it._ ”

He presses a kiss to each one of them, an apology and a prayer. Keshet runs a thumb over his cheek, wiping away tear tracks from the hours before.

“Does the rest of your helmet come off? I wanna run my fingers through your hair. It’s okay if you can’t.”

Genji leans back and pulls the top of his helmet off. His hair is flattened and messy, quickly changed when Keshet runs their fingers through it, spiking it up. The simple bit of human contact feels wonderful and Genji nuzzles his hand into their palm for a moment before he leans in and pulls Keshet’s legs over his shoulders.

“Do you want to see a cool trick?” He leans in and latches his teeth around the waistband of their underwear, pulling them off with his mouth. It’s a trick he learned from a very funny sex worker friend back in his youth.

“ _Why is that so hot?”_ Keshet whispers and he grins. There is a little flicker of pride in his chest following it.

“Give me the dental dam.” He lifts a hand up from their hip. Keshet scrabbles around on the surface of the cabinet before finding it and slaps it into his hand. Their hands immediately tangle back in his hair and urge him on. He chuckles at their eagerness.

“Be patient!”

“ _I am!_ ”

Genji removes his other hand from their hips and gently strokes his thumb from their clit to their opening. The slick forms a string connecting his thumb to their body when he pulls it away.

“You are soaking!”

“ _I have a beautiful man in between my legs, what did you expect? Now are you gonna eat me out or not?”_

Genji doesn’t acknowledge that, instead using his fingers spread their slick around their cunt. His prosthetic fingers don’t sense texture very well, but he doesn’t need to for this. Once the wetness is spread enough he is sure the dam won't chafe, Genji tears the wrapper open. He spreads the dental dam over their cunt and then leans forward to press his tongue against the whole of their sex.

“Bubblegum?”

“ _I’m allergic to mint and all the other flavors are nasty. Now are you gonna eat me out or do I have to sit on your face?”_

Genji doesn’t bother to answer, just leans forward and wraps his lips around their clit and starts mouthing at them. It’s been ages since he’s done this, and he has forgotten how soft a wet cunt is. His bottom lip is synthetic and isn’t as sensitive to texture as his human skin, but his top lip is just fine and Keshet feels wonderful against him, hot and velvety and so fucking sexy. They tighten their fingers in his hair and rock gently against him, a non verbal encouragement.

That isn’t the sort of mind blown reaction he is looking for, so he just figures he’ll have to work harder. Grabbing their thighs in a tight grip, Genji presses himself against them like he wants their bodies to merge. He wraps his lips around their clit and suckles, hard. The legs wrapped around his head clench to bring him closer and Genji feels tranquility embracing him in the press of their thighs.

It seems that hard stimulation is the ticket for this one. He keeps the clit between his lips and presses his tongue against it in a steady rhythm, and Keshet rocks against his face. He feels so wonderfully wanted between their thighs, as they pull at his hair to keep him pressed close, dig their heels into his back to urge him on, beg him with their body.

Sucking their clit between his teeth, he presses his tongue against it, creating a firm pressure. Starting a rhythm makes Keshet rock their hips against his face, desperately chasing their orgasm.  They are close, and Genji wants to feel them come all over him.

Bringing his metal thumb up he presses gently at their opening, circling it and teasing. Keshet tenses and bucks, needy and at the edge of an orgasm. When Genji presses his tongue forcefully against their clit combined with dipping the tip of his thumb into their cunt, they come.

Keshet writhes against and around him, thighs shaking and twisting. He can feel their cunt pulsing against his mouth and more slick leaking out. They pull hard at his hair and let out a filthy whine of his name. It is absolutely glorious.

Once they stop squirming he pulls his mouth away slowly. Sprawled out on top of the cabinet, face flushed and limbs loose, Keshet is the very picture of well fucked.

“I forgot how much I loved this.” He whispers.

“ _Mmmmm. There’s something so… intimate about making another person come.”_

The two of them sit in silence, enjoying the hormonal bliss that comes after sex. He and Keshet are still somewhat entangled, Keshet’s heels perched on his shoulders as he rests his cheek on their calf. It is pleasant and peaceful, and Genji feels surprisingly better.

After a minute or two of lounging Keshet sits up and rummages in their backpack, pulling out a towel and plastic grocery bag. They peel off the dam and stick in the bag before using the towel to clean themself up. This breaks to the spell of peace and Genji sits up. He feels more solid, more here. Less like he would snap in a stiff breeze.

“ _You are very good with your mouth. Hope you know that. Haven’t come that fast from something vanilla since… ever_.” Keshet has pulled their boxer briefs back up and is trying to pull their leggings back on without taking off their boots. It is going about as well as you would expect.  “ _I can give you a handy if you want. I don’t wanna just take.”_

Genji thinks for a moment, “I am good actually. You gave me plenty.” He is being completely honest; their advice and their pleasure has soothed something in him. He is nowhere near healed or even alright, but he is better. Alright doesn’t feel so unreachable now. But he still doesn’t feel like letting anyone try to make him come yet.

“Okay.” Keshet has finally gotten their leggings over their boots and is pulling them up. There is a lot of wiggling. “Don’t be a stranger now. Let me give you my phone number. Do you use a messaging app? I have a few of those.” They pull out a tiny book from their jacket and scribble in it. They look at him and he realizes they are waiting for him to answer.

“Oh! Um. I have a whatsapp?”

“Oh cool, me too.” They jot something else down on the paper, scribble a little more, then tear it out and hand it to him. Hoisting their backpack on to their shoulder, Keshet turns to leave.

“Thank you. For everything.” Genji means it.

Keshet turns back and looks at him.  Their eyes are sharp, and he feels like his whole self is being measured. It is nervewracking, despite that his face was buried in their pussy mere minutes before. Satisfied with what they find there, Keshet steps towards him and tugs his head down, obviously for a kiss. They leave him a second to pull back, and when he leans in, they kiss him. It is hard, deep, and filled with emotions Genji cannot name.

“You are welcome.” Keshet walks out the door and disappears down the stairs.

Once he can no longer hear their footsteps Genji hops out the window and along the roofs of the town. He is halfway back to Zenyatta when he thinks to look at the paper. It says, in messy capitals

Keshet Cohen

The person you ate out in an abandoned house in Tibet after crying a lot

781-593-5820

Genji snickers the rest of the way back.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you guys enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed thinking about this.  
> My undying love and gratefulness to the gunji server for their support, this would not get published or finished without them. Especially tabby.  
> My first original comic with Keshet should be coming out soon, if you liked this you will probably like the comic. It's about magic, sci-fi, and coping with trauma and mental illness.


End file.
